Heiress Recounts Sinking
Anastasia Dalian has finally consented to share her trials during the recent tragedy. Your humble reporter was received in their fashionable town house and was graciously granted an interview with the heiress, although we can call her heiress no longer. She now stands at the head of her late father's company, complete with her inheritance. I was struck by the strain that I could see upon her as we spoke, the mourning that she wears for her father, but she patiently answered every question I had.
During the night of the sinking, Miss Dalian worked valiantly to assist as many women and children into the lifeboats as she could. Several crew that survived have attested to seeing her place them into boats before going to bring more forward, refusing a place until the very end. It is at the very end that she very nearly lost her chance to survive. First Officer Murdoch was in the midst of having crew get a lifeboat readied while he held off a large group of men with a revolver. Miss Dalian was the saving grace that prevented any violence from occurring, coming forward with a group of women and children. After they were loaded she was preparing to board herself when the crowd of men rushed forward, Mr. Murdoch's gun going off above them all as he tried to maintain order and have the boat safely lowered. As it was, the weight of the men sent the boat hurtling away from the ship.
Left on board the sinking liner with Mr. Murdoch by her side, your humble reporter must provide some information about the two that were watching the lifeboat slip away before continuing this narrative. Miss Dalian revealed to me that she had taken a fancy to Mr. Murdoch during the voyage, and he to her. Is it any wonder then, after he had received permission to court her after the voyage from her father, that Mr. Murdoch did what he did next? According to Miss Dalian during our interview, as well as the affidavit she filed with the inquiry and other eyewitness accounts, he pulled her through to the other side and physically lifted her into a boat to ensure her survival. It was in this boat that she took up an oar, rowing with a steadfastness that later gave heart to the sailors who had volunteered to go back and search for survivors. She remained in the boat with them, and they viewed her as if some heroine sent down to keep them on their task.
Miss Dalian was unwilling to account the horrors that she witnessed in the field of wreckage, saying only that she saw many bodies and one survivor died in their boat. From other sources, I had determined that she was the one to hear the cries from the overturned lifeboats that were found. Miss Dalian was surprised to hear that I knew, but she confirmed it. The knowledge that her suitor was onboard one of those boats was unknown to her at the time, and a sailor I spoke to said she pulled as hard as any man at the oars, even when they were soaked by a wave of freezing water. It was only when they had returned to the main group with the survivors from the overturned boats that she was reunited with Mr. Murdoch, waiting with him in the cold until their rescue.
This reporter has read many tales of heroism and cowardice that occurred during the sinking, but if I had to choose one to preserve it would be this. Miss Dalian was no coward, unlike another family onboard that has made much of themselves in the aftermath of the sinking according to her. I am only repeating her own words here, but Miss Dalian alleges that the Reichster family was lowered down upon the millionaire's boat. While it is unknown if they offered a bribe to the sailors onboard as the Duff Gordons did, she says that she clearly saw them lowered, among the first to leave and in a boat that could have held forty, but only had twelve. If so, then the way they have attempted to cover themselves in glory afterward rings hollow. I am no society reporter, my dear readers, but those of you who desire to see Miss Dalian, and no doubt the Reichsters, should turn your eyes to Mrs. Margaret Brown's charity ball tonight. It remains to be seen if the patriarch of the Reichster clan will be in attendance, a report was received from the New York Police Department yesterday that Henry Reichster was arrested for trespassing, and while he has been released on his own recognizance, perhaps this event may be too soon for him to face the sterner members of society. Miss Dalian will be in attendance, in mourning, as she assists that indomitable woman in raising money for those who lost all in the tragedy.
I folded the paper back, setting it on the dining room table. Mother had insisted that we all take breakfast together here, I had found her sipping a cup of coffee with the paper already in front of her. She had simply smiled, sliding it to me to read. Ezekiel, nursing his second cup of coffee, greedily grabbed at it and flipped it open. He fairly cackled as he read his way through the end, "Oh Annie, that's brilliant."
"Indeed it is," Mother smirked over the rim of her cup, "And the reporter has cast you in a good light. I wonder if the Reichsters will even bother showing themselves tonight."
"I hope they don't." I muttered, spreading butter over a piece of toast. "I'd be fine if I never had to see them again." That was met with approving noises from the rest of the table as we set to our breakfast.
Ezekiel looked up from his biscuits, "Actually ma'am, I do have a question. Why not tell the police that he attacked Anastasia? Surely that might have kept him in as opposed to trespassing."
"And then everyone would know that she had been through that." Mother spread a smear of butter over her toast, "There's already been rumors about Anastasia, the last thing that's needed is to pile onto those. Let them think Mr. Reichster got drunk during the afternoon and wandered into the wrong house and there is no chance to add to those rumors."
Ezekiel nodded, turning back to his biscuits. Trust Mother to have a ready and well thought out explanation all ready to go. I quickly ate my own biscuit, slathered with honey. I actually felt good this morning, I hadn't risen for dinner last night after falling asleep in the afternoon. I was starving though, and I piled a rasher of bacon onto my plate. I noticed Mother's eyes on me as I reached for another helping of eggs, "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, yes." She gave a little shake of her head, "I just would like you and Ezekiel to spend the day before the ball out walking. Peggy is convinced that it will help you sleep better, and I am inclined to agree. In addition you may be able to draw attention to your ball tonight. You will need to dress appropriately." I couldn't help the flash of frustration that I would have to go change before we could go out, the morning wrapper I was wearing was entirely wrong for walking. Ezekiel was fine in his waistcoat, although when I returned, after donning a black walking skirt and a shirtwaist, he had added a jacket.
He noticed me staring at the holster beneath it. "Your mother isn't taking any chances now." He held out his arm though, on that side so he could still draw it if needed. "I was thinking the docks, see if Father is at the Star." We set off to the docks, a place both of us practically knew by heart. It was nice to wander through it with him, remembering how we used to run along the piers with the sailor's children. We both laughed when we passed the dock where David had been convinced he could run along the pilings, leaping from one to another. He'd slammed face first into the third one, luckily not harming anything but his pride.
The docks of Dalian Shipping were busy, as had come to seem normal to me. I had watched them from the offices plenty of times, Mr. Keller had insisted that I take Father's old office which had a view that seemed to encompass all of the docks we used. Ezekiel was well known to the men unloading ships and tending to others, and he quickly introduced me to those who came up. I gladly shook their hands, asking how things were done, did they have any ideas how things could be done better, and if they had any ideas to visit me in my office. The men seemed a gruff bunch, but Ezekiel spoke to them in a friendly manner and they quickly warmed to us. The Western Star, Abraham's beloved single funneled ship, was as familiar to me as my own house. Abraham was not onboard though, and we didn't spend much time after we had searched the bridge and his cabin. Instead we had made our way back to the docks, continuing our way down.
I couldn't help but glare as we quickly made our way past Reichster Transport's dock, thankfully a solid distance away from ours. Their ships, newer than most of ours and with multiple funnels speaking to their newer and faster engines, seemed to crowd both sides of their dock, making it almost an alley between slowly shifting steel walls. Ezekiel himself glared at any of the men who looked our way, and pulled me closer until we had passed through the area.
But I froze after we had passed it, seeing something that chilled me rising above the smaller ships. Four funnels, raked back, in buff and black that reared up high. A wireless aerial was hung between two masts, and as we got closer I could see the white painted upper decks and the black hull beneath them. I clutched Ezekiel's arm tightly, "Let's go somewhere else." I couldn't get close to that ship, it was a phantom that had its claws in me and part of me longed to go to it, to remember how her doomed sister was, to see if the rooms were the same.
He glanced at the ship, "Ah, yes. Let's head out. What do you think, take a cab to Central Park and have a turn around there?"
I had barely nodded my assent when a voice called out from close to the ship. "Wait, Miss Dalian!" I turned, seeing the aide from Senator Smith's visit rushing towards us. The rest of the party he had been with continued on, leaving the aide on his own. He quickly made his way up, breathing hard. "The Senator wants to invite you onboard the Olympic, he's taking a tour."
"Unfortunately I am busy," I shook my head, "Please give the Senator my regrets."
"Yes, we are headed off now." Ezekiel didn't even give him a moment to try and speak, quickly turning us and setting off for where the hansom cabs tended to collect. It was only once we were in the cab and heading off that he spoke again, "Don't think about it, Annie. Just focus on tonight. You're not going to make me dance, are you?"
"Oh God, no." I chuckled, "I won't even be dancing."
"Thank God, it's bad enough your mother is making me go around all those stuffed suits." He raked his fingers back through his unruly hair. "What do you think, should I use pomade tonight?" We fell into a light discussion on that topic as we arrived at the park and set off. New leaves and fresh blooms dotted the trees, a gentle breeze ruffling them as we strolled along the pathways. I quietly thanked God for Ezekiel, who seemed to be able to come up with any number of distracting topics to speak about. Over lunch we discussed whether he should wear a top hat, and what color the band should be. The ride back had us debating whether he should wear tails or a short jacket. I was actually smiling when I came back to my sitting room, to get ready for the ball, and saw the letter that had been left on a silver tray. I gingerly picked it up, slitting it open with a pen knife, and read.
Ana,
You can imagine my shock when I opened your letter back in my rooms onboard and saw those pictures. I could not speak for a minute, I was so struck. To see you, in such a way, it made me greatly regret not taking you up on your offer that night. If only you knew how close I was to accepting, how you had worn my will down to practically nothing, how tempting you are. The desire that I felt when I held you, touched you, kissed you. I long to hold you in my arms again, to feel you and kiss you, but until then I must content myself with these pictures. But they are a poor substitute for the real thing. They are lovely though, as are you for giving them to me. But I will admit that I was not expecting to be greeted with such a gift. I would say that you have been too generous by far, but I am lonely. After spending so much time together, it is painful to be separated and these photos bring me such joy at night, when I miss having you by me. July cannot come soon enough, nor can the day we reunite. You must allow me to send you something in return, there are plenty of jewelry stores around me in London. Perhaps a necklace? Or a pair of earrings? And do not worry, I would never show such a personal gift to anyone. In fact I have taken to carrying them around in the pocket of my jacket, I am not sure that the hotel staff can hold out against the bribes the reporters that flock around us offer and I should hate for them to come across them.
The inquiry goes slowly, and I feel tired as I tell the same story over and over. I wish to forget that night, to think only of the future but it seems I am always to be pulled back to that moment before everything went wrong. The reporters here are almost worse than those in New York, if such a thing is possible. The hotel has set out their staff to prevent them from gaining entrance, little good that it does. They still manage somehow, and I was once confronted by a reporter disguised as the man bringing breakfast to our table.
The others are well, and their families have come to join us here. Charles and his wife Sylvie are quite happy to be reunited, and most of the others have had at least someone come to visit while we are here. I wired my parents to stay home, it is far from Dalbeattie and I do not want them confronted by these reporters. I am thinking of a small visit back home to see them when all this is over with, before I return to Southampton to ensure my house is in order. And if my job with White Star is still mine. I hope it is, but I doubt it will be. It is not that I do not wish to come and work for your company, merely that it makes me feel less of a man to know that my salary would come from you. I wish to be the one supporting you, but there is wisdom in the what you said in your letter. When you are Mrs. Murdoch, it would only be right for your husband to involve himself in your company. I cannot say that I will ever feel right about it, but I suppose I can accept the reasoning of it. I will send you a telegram either way, and I hope I shall not be kept up for too long.
Then I hope to return to you in New York. It shall be summer by then, perhaps I will meet you in Newport and teach you to sail. I should enjoy that, and I will hold onto that to see me through the rest of this. That and those pictures.
Your jolly sailor bold,
Will
I folded the letter back into its envelope, carrying it to the the sea chest. I tucked it next to the telegram he'd sent me when he arrived. Arrived safe, off to London, send to Ambassador Hotel. Love, WM. To think that I had only posted the letter about my attack yesterday, that it hadn't even been a day. The letter must have come on the Olympic, that ghost sitting placidly at her dock that I had run from. I sat on my bed, staring at the sea chest. What would Will think of the letter I had sent? He would be angry, I had no doubt about that. I should have known better than to see Mr. Reichster, I should have refused to even consider it. Oh God, Will would think me an utter fool. With what I had written, and how I had bared myself before him and in the pictures, I was sure to be ruined in his eyes, as surely as if I had a child in me.
Perhaps not though, perhaps Will would not care. I would not know though, not until I got a message from him. Or until I saw him again, and that could be ages. Summer, which seemed so close, lasted for so long though. I might spend half of it before seeing him again, or maybe he would come over sooner. We could spend the season at our Newport cottage, laying in the sun and sleeping the afternoon away. I sighed, brushing at my hair coming out of its pins. That was all well and good to think about, but tonight was much closer.
I rang for Peggy to come help me dress. The gown was one that I had ordered from Lord and Taylor's, with very specific instructions. It could not be too extravagant, but neither could it be plain. The dressmakers there had come up with a wonderful combination though, a black silk taffeta dress, with soft falls of black crepe encrusted with jet beads. With jet jewelry and a black feather for my hair, it would be appropriate for the ball but obvious to all that I was still in mourning.
Peggy came up the stairs, bustling me out of my walking clothes and into a fresh set of underthings before slipping the dress over my head and buttoning it up. There really was nothing like the feeling of a new dress slipping on, the fabric cool and crisp. I let her clasp the jet and gold necklace around my throat, the beads dipping low over my chest, before she dressed my hair. She was not the equal of Marie, but it was a far sight better than I could have done on my own, and I admired the way she had the black plume curl around my head to touch my neck. I sent her to go see to the coach while I readied myself further. Jet earrings, gold and jet bracelets, and black silk gloves were donned. I will admit to adding just a touch too much rouge, to try and offset the paleness I was confronted with. She tutted as I did that, "Miss, not too much now."
"I'm so pale though," I brushed my fingers over my cheeks, the gloves tucked away where no powder could get on then, blending it with the powder. "Could you fetch me a drink, please? That might get some color in me."
"I'm afraid you're off the liquor, Miss." She adjusted the feather, curling some of the plume around her fingers. "Your mother's orders. It's all been put away, and she had the locks changed on the cabinet. She's got the only key." She must have seen my face fall because she quickly changed the subject, "Now, you should have heard Mr. Fields when he saw the tuxedo that had been laid out for him. He swore such a blue streak that the footman assisting him could barely keep from laughing."
"Ezekiel always seems uncomfortable when he's not in his sailing clothes." I muttered, yanking my gloves on. Peggy fussed about me as I stood, handing me a black silk wrap to cover my shoulders until we were at the ball. I made for the stairs, trying not to dwell on being denied the brandy that had been so helpful within the past weeks. I could admit that I had been indulging a bit too much, but I had exhausted everything else. Mulled wine did nothing, chamomile tea made me completely unable to fall asleep. After I had drank a few cups of that I hadn't slept all night, feeling a jittering in my limbs that I could not stop. That had left Peggy flabbergasted, apparently my reaction was almost completely unknown, the tea usually calming even the most frantic drinker. But the brandy, that had been helpful. It helped slow everything down a bit, and it reminded me a bit of Father, the scent that would be on him after he'd been indulging. When I had a glass of brandy and sat in his chair, at his desk, it seemed like I could feel him with me.
I shook those thoughts away. The ball would go late, I would be exhausted by the time I got home, and hopefully that would allow me some sleep. I smiled, seeing Mother and Ezekiel chatting in the foyer. Ezekiel was dressed in white tie, and he kept reaching up to tug at the tie. I chuckled, "You won't choke, you know."
"Yes, but if I lean forward to much I might get strangled." He tipped his head back, trying to clear his throat from the collar. "Aren't you stunning?"
"Very nice, Anastasia." Mother said, looking me up and down. "And no dancing, correct?"
"Yes, Mother."
"And only one glass of champagne."
"One?"
"Perhaps two, if there are toasts. And Ezkeiel is to be by your side the entire time."
Ezekiel nodded, opening the side of his waistcoat to reveal the pistol in its holster. "Had to tuck it in a bit closer, your valet said it was ruining the line of the jacket."
"Well, into the carriage with both of you." Mother nodded to the footman by the door, "I'll be waiting up."
I gave her a hug, feeling her arms come around me. "We'll be fine Mother, I promise."
She gave me a smile, "Go on then, before it starts without you." Ezekiel gallantly offered his arm, handing me up into the carriage. We had another man with the driver tonight, wielding a whip in such a way that made me think he was hoping to use it on more than the horses.
I twisted the wrap around my hands, trying to focus. This wasn't a ball to have fun, this was a ball to raise money for charity. I would be sharing my story, and would have to elegantly beg some of the richest families for some breadcrumbs to throw to the survivors. I tried to settle myself into the bench, it would be a little while before we got to the Sherry's, where Mrs. Brown had reserved the entire place for the night, including the massive ballroom. Ezekiel, stretching his legs out across the carriage, grinned. "Are you ready for tonight, Annie?"
I grinned back, hoping it had more confidence than I did. "Well, if I wasn't it's too late to back out now."